


Sequoia

by macbyrne



Category: Twilight
Genre: Angst, Gen, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Oh My God, Pining, Werewolves, What Have I Done, but I actually kind of like it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 11:35:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2466764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macbyrne/pseuds/macbyrne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is for haradachi, who likes to push me, and push my buttons. Thanks for getting my brain off the couch, brat. Hope you like it.</p></blockquote>





	Sequoia

_Wolves mate for life._  
  
It was the only thought running through his head. He’d left his pack, his family behind and fled to the quiet of the forest, needing the serenity and the peacefulness that the giant redwoods exuded.   
  
He lay cradled in the soft loam of the forest floor, braced on either side by the huge exposed roots of the thousand year old tree he was laying beneath. He stared up at the trunk of the tree, rising majestically into a mist so thick he couldn’t see the branches at the top.  
  
The ground was cool against his bare shoulders. Between the thick mist and the trees, the sun couldn’t reach in to warm the earth, and he knew before the change he would have been wracked by shivers. But now he was as warm as if he was reclining beside a fire, and the fact that he was only wearing a pair of ratty gym shorts didn’t change that.  
  
He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be with her, his _place_ was with her. But she didn’t want him.  
  
She loved him. He knew that, and she’d finally been honest with herself and with him, and with the goddamn fucking _vampire_ and admitted it. She loved him. She just didn’t love him enough.  
  
He growled under his breath. She was supposed to be his. He was the one who had stood by her. He was the one who had supported her and cared for her, held her as she cried, been her friend through everything.  
  
And she’d thrown it back in his face, choosing a vampire, choosing _death_ , over him. Over life.  
  
He rolled to his feet, pacing between the trees. His bare feet didn’t leave a mark in the heavy carpet of needles that covered the ground, and he felt like he’d been amongst the trees for an eternity and for barely a moment at all. Nothing he did here could affect anything. He was irrelevant to the giant trees, to the life that continued around him. His pain and his heartache was insignificant. Just like it was to _her_.  
  
He threw his head back and screamed his fury and frustration to the treetops, a hoarse growling cry that echoed through the trees, and he rejoiced for a moment in the silence that fell. Even the insects stopped humming for a moment.  
  
But it wasn’t enough. He needed to vent his anguish and despair, needed to rend and tear and kill until the horrible empty void inside him dissipated, just a little. He yearned to see the hated face of the damn vampire, ached to pummel it until it was bruised and swollen and bleeding.  
  
He needed to move, to try and outrun the burning rage inside him, so he began running, running as though the hounds of hell were after him. Mid-stride, he let the change take him, and went from a running human to a running wolf in a blink. It didn’t help with the despair he felt. The wolf side of him was even simpler in its pain. It knew only that it was lonely and tired and wanted the comfort of hearth and pack.  
  
He could feel the others, his pack, feel their voices and their worry even through the miles that separated them. They wanted to come to him, wanted him to return, worried for him alone in the forest. But he couldn’t bear to be near them now, to listen to their well-meant but awkward attempts at comfort.   
  
He ran faster, trying to outpace his thoughts and their worries and his dead dreams. He panted furiously, tasting pine and rot and fear, as other creatures – _prey_ – got his scent and ran from him. He ran, feeling the pads of his feet tear as he scrambled over rocks, feeling them knit up again as he healed almost as quickly. He ran, until he could taste the air in his throat, hot and coppery like blood. He ran until all he could hear was his pulse thudding in his head, until every thought and regret and wish was drowned out by the frantic beat of his heart.  
  
By the time he stopped, he was miles from anywhere, deep in the ancient forest, completely and totally alone. He slumped, panting, still in wolf form, his breaths misting out and drifting away in the cool air. Night had fallen. He watched as the moon rose above him, heavy and full, and he obeyed an instinct older than time itself.   
  
He threw back his head and howled his heartbreak to the uncaring distant moon.

**Author's Note:**

> This is for haradachi, who likes to push me, and push my buttons. Thanks for getting my brain off the couch, brat. Hope you like it.


End file.
